


Dinner Didn't Go as Planned

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Feels, Good Intentions, M/M, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 16:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15733074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: John and Sherlock planned a surprise double date to introduce Greg and Mycroft to one another. They didn't realize they'd already met.





	Dinner Didn't Go as Planned

John closed his locker and looked over at where Greg was putting away the last of his gear. The rugby captain must have felt John's eyes because he looked up and tossed John a smile. “Checking out the view?” Greg asked, flexing mockingly.

Well if he was, John could hardly be blamed, but no, he had something else on his mind. “You busy tonight?”

Greg grinned a little wider. “Thought you had a boyfriend?”

“Well I do, but he suggested I bring someone along to dinner tonight. I guess he’s got some company and doesn’t want them to feel like they’re third wheeling it.” John knew exactly who the company was. They’d been planning this for weeks, after all. But it seemed like the only way to get these two to meet each other. 

“So I get to third wheel instead,” Greg teased. “Naw, it’s fine, I’ll come.” He finished what he was doing and pulled on his jacket. Greg was obviously in a good mood after the practice they’d just had, which made this all the better. He’d be graduating in a few months time and seemed to be reveling in the attention he got as team captain and a senior. But he was still the same down to earth guy he’d always been.

Which should make dinner interesting, if it went the way they hoped it would.

John and Greg headed out side by side, Greg chattering about the upcoming game and how he’d done on his last maths test. John listened, hands shoved into his pockets, hoping his nervousness wasn’t showing.

They walked off campus and headed out into the city. Greg’s smile slipped as they went down a block and stopped in front of a somewhat posh looking restaurant. “I don’t know if I have the cash....” 

“Sherlock’s covering it,” said John, getting the door.

Greg shrugged and went in. John led him past the podium knowing that Sherlock would be waiting. Greg looked around as he trailed in John’s wake, almost missing the table they were heading for. He froze as he recognized the other figure in the booth.

“Gregory, this is a surprise.” Mycroft’s tone was cool.

A handful of emotions crossed Greg’s face all at once, but he put on a smile. “Nice to see you again, Mycroft.”

John and Sherlock shared a look. How did they know each other?

“Likewise,” said Mycroft in a tone that indicated anything but.

John was determined to see this through, so he took the seat next to Mycroft, effectively pinning him in unless he wanted to go under the table. John gave Sherlock a look and he slipped out, encouraging Greg to sit on the inside.

Greg hesitated, but he slid in with a nudge. Mycroft made a show of looking at the menu and ignoring the man in front of him.

“How is university?” John asked Mycroft, still wondering.

“Adequate,” answered Mycroft without looking up.

John threw Sherlock a look. Sherlock looked between Mycroft and Greg, eyes calculating. 

Greg scrabbled a hand through his hair and rolled his eyes at Sherlock. “We met last summer,” he explained.

“Mycroft turned you down,” said Sherlock. “Why?”

With a sigh, Mycroft closed the menu. “It was only logical, brother mine. Gregory was going back to school and I was off to university. What would be the point of pursuing a relationship?”

“Maybe some fun for five minutes of your life?” asked Greg, crossing his arms. “But no, I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I never said that,” said Mycroft, eyeing Greg.

“You might as well have.” Greg clearly sounded wounded. “You turned me down flat. Twice.”

“As I said, there was no logical reason for you to ask me out.”

“So?” Greg looked as though he’d be walking off if Sherlock wasn't stubbornly blocking him in. John started wondering if this was a mistake. “Relationships don’t have to be logical,” Greg continued. “If you didn’t like me back, fine, that happens. But I know that wasn’t the case.”

Mycroft folded his hands in front of him. “Do you?”

“Yes,” snapped Greg. “You just, for whatever reason, and don’t try to tell me it was pure logic, decided I wasn’t good enough or I wasn’t what you wanted and made sure I knew it.”

“I didn’t wish to lead you on in some delusion.” said Mycroft placidly.

“Delusion?” Greg raised his voice in outrage.

The waiter chose that moment to swoop in. “Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

“Yes,” said Sherlock before anyone else could speak, rattling off orders for all four of them. John didn’t bother arguing about it. Greg slouched back, glaring at Mycroft. The waiter collected the menus. Mycroft examined his shirt cuff for loose threads.

“So...,” said John after a few moments of awkward silence. He wanted to confer with Sherlock alone, but knew the moment that either of them exited the booth then it was all over.

“I see that practice went well,” said Sherlock.

When Greg didn’t answer, John shrugged. “Well enough. Got a good team captain after all.” He shot Greg a tiny smile. Greg didn’t respond, eyes still fixed on Mycroft.

Sherlock stretched out his legs, effectively blocking anyone from attempting to climb under the table and escape that way. “You two may as well talk about it.”

“There is nothing to talk about, and are you planning on holding us hostage all night?” said Mycroft.

Sherlock shrugged.

“At least I get dinner out of it,” grumbled Greg. “Sherlock you are definitely buying.”

The waiter came back with a bottle of wine. He looked at Mycroft and Greg, hesitating just a moment before pouring four glasses and setting it on the table.

“Thank you,” said John.

The waiter nodded and went off again.

Greg threw back most of his glass in a way that one certainly did not usually do when drinking wine, then topped himself off.

“Ah yes, getting drunk will solve all of life's problems,” said Mycroft sarcastically, sipping his wine.

“What do you even know about life?” asked Greg. “Since you refuse to live it?” 

Mycroft rolled his eyes. “And you called me dramatic.”

“I wasn’t asking for forever,” said Greg, sitting up and leaning towards Mycroft. “I told you, a week, that was all I was asking for. We both had school to go back to, we were only there on holiday, nothing permanent, no long distance relationship. Just… a week.”

“And what would have been the point? So you could cross another conquest off your list?”

Greg actually looked stunned. “Is that why you think I asked? Just so I could _sleep_ with you?”

“There was no other reason for it,” said Mycroft, though there was the slightest hesitation in his voice. 

“I can’t… Sherlock, move. I’m not taking this for another minute.” Greg shoved at Sherlock, but the younger man was nigh unmovable. “I mean it.”

“While Lestrade wouldn’t have been adverse to a physical relationship, I do believe he only wanted the pleasure of your company. For some reason,” said Sherlock, ignoring Greg’s second attempt at shoving him out of the way and resting a foot on the opposite booth.

“Why on earth would anyone want to be in my company?” asked Mycroft incredulously.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” snapped Greg. “Yeah, you're gorgeous, but you’re also brilliant and we talked about a lot of things and god _damnit_ all I wanted was a _chance_. I swear to God, Sherlock _move_.”

Just as Sherlock looked about to give in, Mycroft reached over and touched Greg’s arm. “Gregory.”

Greg looked up, not trying to hide the look of anguish.

Mycroft sighed. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said quietly. “I truly didn’t see your earnestness. As Sherlock said, nobody desires my company, at least not unless they want something.”

Greg studied his face and slumped back once again, defeated. “That night on the dock,” he said quietly, reaching out for his glass and sipping the wine, not looking at anyone.

Mycroft swallowed and looked at his hands. “I’d never been kissed before,” he said quietly.

“So you panicked,” Greg said as if putting the pieces together. “And then when I tried to spend more time with you, you shoved me away.” 

“You were persistent,” admitted Mycroft. “Which was why I was even more firm the second time. You didn’t try again.”

“What would have been the point? You’d made it clear where you stood. I… I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“For what it’s worth, when Sherlock said that John was bringing a guest, you were the last person I expected.”

Greg put his glass down and rubbed his face in his hands. Sherlock put his foot back on the floor. John reached over and wove his fingers through Sherlock’s, just watching.

“Gregory,” said Mycroft quietly.

Greg looked up.

“I obviously made an error.” Mycroft slowly reached his hand across the table again as if crossing some vast gulf. “Would you allow me to rectify my mistake?”

Greg gave him a crooked smile, but slipped his hand into Mycroft’s with a nod. “What did you have in mind?”

“Perhaps an unchaperoned dinner date, to start?”

“Can I pick you up on my motorcycle?” asked Greg.

“Mummy will be displeased, but yes. I’m doing some work here in town for the next few weeks. After that…”

“After that we’ll see,” said Greg. “Just a little of your time, Mycroft. That’s all I ever wanted.”

“I see that now.” Mycroft squeezed Greg’s hand and let go, sitting back as the food was delivered.

John looked at Sherlock and relaxed, picking up his fork.

“If you’ll excuse me, John, I need to use the facilities,” said Mycroft. “I do promise I’m not running off.”

Sherlock gave a tiny nod, so John let him out, sitting back down and looking at Greg. “I had no idea.”

“It’s… fine,” said Greg, digging into his dinner. “Never thought anything would come of it. Hell, I might be thanking you before too long.”

“I’ll ensure that there’s no issues,” promised Sherlock.

John gave Sherlock a smile, pleased. He knew Sherlock and Mycroft got on better then they pretended to.

Mycroft returned a few minutes later and the rest of the meal passed in amicable small talk, like stormy skies clearing and the sea calming.

As they finished and gathered up their jackets, Greg bit his lip and looked at Mycroft. “Can I walk you home?”

“I need to go by the library, but if you want to join me… I’d like that.”

Greg gave Mycroft a genuine smile. “I would too.”

John watched as Greg and Mycroft walked side by side to the exit, Greg getting the door for Mycroft as they fell into conversation. He let out a breath. “Well, that was interesting.”

“Yes,” said Sherlock.

John looked up at him. “You think they’ll be alright?”

“Despite assumptions to the contrary, I’m not a prognosticator.”

“Right, fair enough.” John leaned up and gave him a quick kiss. “Come on, settle up the bill and let's go home.”

Sherlock nodded and went to take care of it. John looked at the direction Greg and Mycroft had gone, sending out silent hopes that everything would be well between them. He had a feeling it would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to smirkdoctor for the prompt. Thank you to themadkatter13 for the read over.
> 
> You cand find me on twitter and tumblr at merindab


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